Amaranth
by Respice Finem
Summary: So, the universe is infinite, right?


A frantic, relentless pounding on my door rudely awakens me. It's too loud to shut out by covering my head with another pillow, and whoever or whatever it is is obviously too desperate to wait until morning, for even after ten full minutes of shoving my face in a pillow in a fruitless attempt to fall asleep again, the pounding continues.

I push myself off of the mattress and stare unblinkingly at the digital clock. The flashing red letters taunt me- A two and two zeros.

It's two in the goddamn morning.

The pounding increases in volume and pace, and I roll out of bed, muttering obscenities to myself as my toes meet the unforgiving, frozen wood of the floor. I search through the masses of dirty clothes at the foot of my bed and find two socks and begin to pull them on.

They don't match.

Oh, well.

The thumping still has not ceased, and the offending person has taken to ringing the doorbell at random intervals between pounds. I am no longer muttering obscenities under my breath, I am now competing with the doorbell for volume, cursing it for interrupting my slumber.

I fumble with the locks, my eyes unfocused with drowsiness. Finally, I manage to grip the handle and throw open the door, ready to scream at the culprit.

My brother's face stares back at me, his expression a combination of bewilderment and euphoria, and I deflate, instead choosing to rest my head on the door frame to try to collect myself. I open one eye, irritation marring my features.

The baffled expression disappears, and he stares at me with a deranged, lopsided smile.

"Hey! C'mon, I've gotta tell you something!"

I gape at him. "It couldn't wait until morning?" He simply shakes his head wildly, the smile never leaving his face.

I sigh, and lean against the door frame, massaging my temples. "Alright, then. What is it?"

He begins to whine like a child, his shoulders drooping. "No! I've gotta tell you over there!"

I give him another incredulous look. "It's two in the morning."

"So?"

My mouth is a straight, tight line, and I raise my eyebrow at him. I take a moment to weigh the possible outcomes, and conclude that if I go back inside, he'll only continue clamoring at my door. I give a final sigh, nodding slightly, and his smile widens. He pivots on his heel and begins to walk rather unsteadily away from the doorstep.

I step out onto the cold grass, and cringe as the damp chill of water seeps through my thin socks and settles between my toes. My footsteps make a moist squelching sound as I follow him into the dark.

The path he takes is familiar- the old, rugged road we stamped out during our many ventures into the forest. The trees part in front of us, revealing a clearing that tapered off abruptly onto a precipice carved out of the rock by centuries of erosion. The beaten path dissolves into a patchwork of moss and green grass, and the forest stretches out before us hundreds of feet below the lonely crag we stand on.

Memories flood back as the stars enter my field of vision. We used to sit here and count the stars…

I shake the memories from my head, and fix my gaze on the man in front of me, who was fixing me with a giddy, eager look.

"Well? What was so important that you had to drag me out of bed at two in the morning?" My voice is strained with exhaustion and drowsiness, and it conveys my exasperation rather well.

His face breaks into the widest grin to ever grace his countenance, and his muscles twitch and shudder with anticipation.

"I have a theory."

I roll my eyes and look away. Not again, not another unscientific bundle of idiocy… And please, not at two in the morning.

Either he doesn't notice my reaction, or he decides to ignore it, because he continues his monologue.

"Okay, so, the universe is infinite, right?" He's still grinning, and his eyes hold a strange light. He turns his back to me, tilting his head up and fixing his gaze on the constellations above.

An audible yawn escapes me. "Theoretically, yes."

I can no longer see his face, but his voice still carries excitement. "So, if the universe is infinite, then everything that could possibly happen is happening right now. And it's happening an infinite number of times." He makes frantic gesticulations in what I assume is an attempt to make me understand the concept, and then takes several minutes to stare at his gloved hands.

My brow lowers in confusion, and I narrow my eyes slightly. I slowly approach him, and stand at his side at the edge of the cliff, staring blankly out at the forest below the precipice.

Several minutes pass, and he's still staring in groggy wonder at the grass stains in his gloves. I look up at him, and raise an eyebrow, trying to predict his next move and measure his level of sanity.

"And?"

Immediately his hands fly back to his sides, and his head and eyes follow the path of the Milky Way from the horizon to the stars directly above his head. The manic grin takes its rightful place on his features, and his eyes begin to glow again, although it's difficult to tell whether or not it is light reflecting off his face or an alien presence.

"And… So…" His brows knit in uncertainty as he licks his dry lips and searches for the appropriate words. Another minute passes as I stare at him expectantly, and finally, an enlightened look washes over his face, and his previous expression returns.

"So that means... It means that everything we do in this world is meaningless, but by doing it…" He trails off for a moment, before regaining his sense of purpose. "By doing it, we are immortal."

As the last word rolls from his mouth, he leaves it open, gazing at the stars in slack-jawed awe.

I stare at him for a moment longer and then turn my attention to the stars as well. My lips are parted, with the shadow of a smile tugging at the edges. I'm squinting with a combination of fatigue and pensiveness.

The forest at the foot of the cliff is almost alive. The wind rustles in the trees that reflect the blackness of the night sky. The grass at my feet trembles with the gentle caress of the breeze, and the dewdrops that cling to the thin blades echo the soft moonlight. The earth glows with life and beauty.

And the millions of stars above blanket the ground with a celestial grace and glimmer with a presence that I had never noticed.

It may just be the fact that it's two in the goddamn morning. It may just be that I'm standing in my pajamas and socks, and the cold is seeping up the aching bone in my wet, miserable feet.

But as we stare up at the magnificent heavens, I can't help but ponder whether at the same edge of the same precipice, an infinite number of times at an infinite number of places, someone has just had the same conversation.


End file.
